


a lesson in instability

by Firebread



Category: Everyman HYBRID, Tribe Twelve
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Exorcisms, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mania, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, i don’t really know what to tag this i’ll add to it later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-23 01:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18539503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firebread/pseuds/Firebread
Summary: After years of Evan being gone, Vinny has finally had enough and decides he’s got to figure out how to separate him from HABIT.Alone in his vessel, HABIT finds that even his mind is turning against him, and an unlikely ally steps in to offer him some advice.





	a lesson in instability

**Author's Note:**

> hey y’all. this is my first time really writing fic and especially chaptered fic, but i hope you all like it!!

This had gone on far too fucking long.

 

Days, weeks, months, and years had gone by since HABIT had taken full control of Evan, or rather taken his body for his own. Since then, Vinny has only seen his friend come to the surface a handful of times, all of them in a state of panic. None for very long.

HABIT hadn’t even the decency to rid Evan of having to remember the sensation of his daughter’s body crunching in his mouth, or the last fleeting moments of Jeff’s existence—his death at Evan’s stolen hands. He had no clue whether Evan was in any way conscious while HABIT used his body, whether he could think or feel, but he prayed not. His best friend didn’t deserve any more pain.

He missed him so much. He missed his bright smile, his laugh, and the feeling of his joy. Missed the simple days where they could all just sit and joke around. Sure, he’d gotten used to seeing his face twisted and mangled by the demon inside it, but the sting of not having him by his side, when things got so hard that he could barely even open his eyes in the morning was something that he couldn’t shake. And with most of HABIT’s insane plans and apocalyptic ideas over, it was about time he thought of a way to get that bastard out. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was time.

Unfortunately, he was no expert on spells or incantations or anything of the sort, and it’s not like he had many people to turn to. In reality, he had two options: try and research something he could use online and do it all by himself, or call someone who might have more knowledge than he does.

Noah was just about the only ally of his he still knew to be alive, and certainly someone he could consider trustworthy. God knows he’d gone through just as much shit as they had. And even better, he seemed to have a lot of knowledge about runes and symbols and _chants_ and most all the things Vinny needed right now. He thought for a minute, deciding that he would need the help. Not like he really wanted to deal with a snarling, furious demon on his own. And, after all… it’s been quite a while since he saw another face.

 

HABIT let out a puff of air as he moved to take another bite of his greasy, cheap Chinese noodles. He’d ordered them more to pass the time than any actual desire or hunger. He had no real need to eat, even if he was in currently in human form; as long as he was inhabiting Evan’s body, eating and sleeping were more of a luxury.

No, the real reason why he was eating is that he was getting real sick of seeing the same reactions out of Vinny, and when he’d gone to such lengths to come up with brand-new and interesting methods of torment, too?  Quite _disappointing_ . So he decided to leave the little brat alone for a while. But admittedly, without anyone around, he didn’t really have anything to _do._ At least, without packing up and fucking off to another place entirely. And he couldn’t do that quite yet. He wasn’t satisfied.

He’d even gone to the lengths of dragging the delivery guy inside and slicing his throat open with a dull switchblade, just to see him squirm and gasp for breath a couple more seconds. That had been fun. He’d never tire of seeing the way someone’s life leaves their body. And considering the circumstances, there was no rush for him to clean up any mess either. It’s not like he was getting fucking visitors. And so that would have to do for now, in terms of entertainment. He’d let Vinny simmer for a few more days, just enough to make him paranoid, and then he’d be perfectly occupied.

 

He’d called Noah about a day ago to discuss his idea and hopefully convince him to come up to Jersey to help him with whatever they’d have to recite. Thankfully, Noah had agreed, and now it was only a matter of time before his drive up was over. Honestly, this might be the most excited for anything Vinny had felt in years— and for an over glorified _exorcism_ , of all things. Despite everything, he was almost giddy at the prospect of seeing Evan again, and having him here to stay. He drummed his fingers against the table, checking his phone again for a text or a call from Noah, which thank God, there was.

 

[7:32:06 PM] Noah M: hey i’ll be there in a few i’m just pulling onto your street

 

Vinny sent back a quick response, and paused to take a few deep breaths. He wasn’t really sure how to go about this entire encounter, and if he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t really planned things out. He prayed they would be able to somehow wrassle HABIT into rope, or something long enough for them to perform the ritual, he hoped Noah knew what he was doing in the first place, and he prayed that Evan would be okay. That’s all he wanted.

 Shit. Noah was probably already in the driveway.

 He made his way to the front door just as he heard a knock, and opened it to see a rather exhausted looking Noah holding a cargo bag, eyes downcast.

 Vinny looked at him and offered a small smile. “Hey, man. How was your drive up here?”

 Noah’s grip tightened on his bag.

 “It was… okay. I hate driving for that long, it freaks me out.” He paused for a moment and brought his eyes up to meet Vinny. “Can we get set up? I’ve got everything we need here.”

 Vinny swallowed his momentary worry. He wanted to talk to Noah, see if he was alright… the bags under his eyes were dark, and he certainly seemed a lot more troubled than when he’d seen him way back when. But there were bigger things to worry about right now. There’d be time for that after Evan was safe.

 “Yeah, sure, I thought the basement would be the best place. Follow me.”

 Vinny led him down to his basement, where he already had a chair set up, and plenty of rope to tie the bastard up. He motioned for Noah to put his things down on a nearby table.

 “So, uh… what do we have to do for this ritual anyways? What exactly is going to happen?”

 Yet again, Noah couldn’t seem to really pick his head up. “Well, we get him tied to this chair, paint a symbol on his forehead in his— Evan’s— own blood, and then recite a chant. Got it off of some weird voodoo website, but I’m sure it’ll work. I can do it, if you want. I’m more familiar with it anyways.”

 Vinny gulped, kind of uneasy with the choice that left him. He could do it himself, which would ensure that things were in his control, but he didn’t exactly know anything about this. Screw it, he trusted Noah, right? He can handle it. And Vinny would be there with him, anyways.

 “Yeah, man. You’ve got this. And I can’t thank you enough. Hey, you can always stay with me for a while after it all goes down.”

 Not really sure where that came from, but he couldn’t really say he was opposed.

 “I’m sure Evan would like a familiar face, and it’d save you the ride back to Florida for a little? If you want to. Totally up to you.”

 Noah looked at Vinny, and gave him a little smile. “That’d be nice, Vin. It’s not exactly _fun_ back home hallucinating all alone in my house.”

 “Now, call up HABIT and let’s get this started.”

 

Vinny thanked every good deity out there for the fact that the all-mighty demon HABIT fell for his measly invitation text. He’d only said that he had some info on some symbol or another, some Star that he’d brought up weeks ago, but HABIT took the bait. Maybe he’d lost his touch after all.

 He was currently tied firmly to the metal chair, and of course snarling and thrashing around, just as he’d predicted. It was a miracle even that they’d get him for this long, but luckily HABIT was close enough to a demon to be trapped like one.

 Noah stepped over to the swearing entity with a small penknife. HABIT’s eyes widened slightly as he saw Noah’s expression grow to be almost one of anticipation.

 “Hey, c’mon now Noah, I know when we met I wasn’t exactly loving to ya but this is a little _extreme_ isn’t it? And what did Vinny try to convince you of? That you can kill me with a tiny thing like that?”

 Noah looked utterly indifferent to whatever tactic HABIT was trying to use. “Nope. I’ve just gotta draw a little blood, won’t hurt a bit…” he replied, drawing his sentence out as he brought the knife to HABIT’s arm, a shot glass in his other hand.

 He made a small horizontal cut along the edge of HABIT’s forearm, just deep enough to bleed steadily, and held the glass to it, collecting the blood. Soon, he had enough, and dipped his fingers into the red, drawing the ever-familiar Severance symbol on HABIT’s forehead as he used the other to steady his moving head. He made sure to move his fingers with purpose, seeming to try and draw energy to what he was doing.

 Finally, he was satisfied, and stood back, taking a deep breath and looking to a piece of paper. Written on it was the words to the incantation that would finalize the ritual. He had it memorized, for the most part, but held it as he started to recite.

  _“Deus ergo his duabus animabus separari per potentiam tuam misericordiae, morte moriantur ambo relinquo mundum et purum, per potestas penes universum caelum et astra et Dominium supra. Venite seorsum simul! Vade unus Spiritus, novas invenire! Separatum simul!”_

 Vinny had no clue what he was saying, but as he spoke his voice began to boom and echo throughout the room, a strange air of power coming over the man who had trouble looking him in the eye not even hours before.

 A light began to form and twist around HABIT, and soon there was a light so bright that hell, he couldn’t even really see what was happening. Noah seemed to still be going, repeating phrases from whatever it was he had just recited, his voice powerful and somehow _important_ like he had never heard it before.

 After a couple of minutes, the light began to dim, and Noah’s voice faded out into nothing. All he cared to focus on was the form slumped over the table, still faintly glowing, and coughing quietly. Brown, shaggy hair, light skin, wide shoulders… sure as hell _looked_ like Evan.

 He took slow, careful steps towards him from where he’d been watching at the back of the room. Softly, he said, “Evan..? Is that you, man?”

 He raised his head and showed the same true-blue eyes Vinny had known all those years, not the bitter violet they were while he was inHABITed. He turned to look at HABIT, briefly unconscious, and back to himself, putting his hands out in front of him and seeming to marvel at the feeling of being in his body alone again, the first time in years. Once his “inspection” was over, he turned back to Vinny and threw him into a tight hug.

“Hey, Vin.”

 Those two little words sounded magical, the emotion evident in his voice. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, knowing that Evan was just as happy and overwhelmed with this all as he was.

 Even Noah looked serene, though a film of sweat covered his forehead. He, too came over to Evan and gave him a quick hug, remarking sarcastically “Yeah, it’s great to see you too, dude.” as Evan spluttered to say that he didn’t even _see_ him, but Noah quickly made sure he knew he was just messing around.

 After a few minutes of comfort and catching up, Noah cut in to the conversation to ask what was going to happen with Evan, since HABIT was currently kind of living in his house. “I can’t replicate an entire house, guys, I’m not _that_ good.”

 Vinny was quick to say that Evan could stay with him. A little too quick. A bit of a flush came to his cheeks as he explained that he had more than enough room for all three of them, and it was only temporary until they figured out what to do with HABIT.

 Satisfied, they all headed upstairs, before Evan questioned what HABIT was going to do. Noah assured him that he’d really only have the wits about him to get home, and that that’s why he’d already untied the rope. The spell had taken a _lot_ out of him.

 

HABIT awoke in a stupor, blinking furiously to try and get his bearings. He was still, clearly, in Vinny’s basement. Fucking lovely. All the rope that had been tied in knots around him was dangling loose, and the chair had been shoved off the demon’s trap. They left him to just… get out of here? Fine by him, he supposed. He didn’t want to even bother to try and ask Vinny about what the fuck just happened. He hadn’t been this weak in _ages_. Whatever sorta spell they cast must have run his energy dry, because he felt like a freight train hit him— and backed up just to run him over again.

 He could barely focus enough mojo to get himself home— well, to Evan’s house— and get onto his bed. Sure, he didn’t need to sleep in ordinary circumstances, but if he was this drained, knocking out for a while certainly couldn’t hurt. Then, after he was good and full of energy, he’d go out and strangle some unlucky fuck. He savored the thought of that. He almost felt better already.

 The hours seemed to stream by, with thick masses of fog covering the horizon and leaving the sun a faint glow, before it, too began to set, and leave only bitter moonlight to offset the haze.

 All the while, HABIT was twitching and thrashing, his hands mindlessly clawing at anything they could reach. As the clock ticked past 1 in the morning, his eyes finally snapped open, and a long groan tore from his mouth. He stood up, and stumbled over to Evan’s bathroom, where he looked himself over. He’d felt something fucking stinging him, he swore.

 Looking in the dusty mirror, though, all he could find were long, vertical scratches up and down his arms, along with a few adorning the sides of his face. They were reddish and certainly inflamed, but hardly bleeding, so he thought that they must be the result of force, not some sort of a blade. Come to think of it, what the fuck? He turned over his hands and looked at his fingers. Red, with small flakes of dried blood scattered under his nails.

 So he was fucking _scratching_ himself in his _sleep_ now? He threw a hand in his hair, tugging at it in frustration, trying to figure out why he’d do something like that. His attempts to sleep were never really peaceful for him, for they usually caused a lot of unrest between his vessel and his being, but now? He couldn’t feel Evan anymore.

 He was no longer there. The pit of space that Evan Jennings took up in his mind was _empty._ So that’s what Vinny and that fucking kid… what was his name, Noah? Did to him? They took Evan out of this fucking body altogether? That accounted for the energy loss, since creating an entire human form from some DNA wasn’t exactly easy, but why the hell was it affecting him now?

 He let out a loud sigh, walking back into Evan’s bedroom to grab the Death Proof hat he couldn’t help but love. No point in wasting time trying to figure out stupid things, like what minuscule things he did while he was unconscious. He had better plans.

 He let the front door shut behind him, pacing down the street where Evan lived to a place where he knew the stupid fucking stoners would gather in alleyways. Easy to grab, easy to knock out, and not too loud. That’d prove nothing had changed. He frequented easy prey like that when he really had nothing better to do than watch some poor bastard’s life leave his eyes. Effortless fun.

 He stalked over to one girl, maybe 30 and pathetically ordinary. He put on an easy, fake smile and offered her a couple of grams if she’d just follow him to the back and pay him a favor. It was disgusting how elementarily easy it was to trick humans. She, of course, followed him. He took to the back wall of a building, pinning her against the wall long enough to trick her, and brought a long, serrated knife into his hand.

 In one fluid motion, he drew one hand up and forced her mouth open, and with the other he stabbed his blade up into her head. Soon she was pouring red from her rolled-back eyes, out her nostrils and from her mouth. So awfully _pretty._ She hadn’t even time to make a sound before her weight collapsed into his hand, and he took the knife out to see her flop onto the floor of the alley like some poor, sick animal.

 He almost shivered with the satisfaction such a simple kill could bring him. He brought the knife to his lips, his too-long tongue darting out to lick the sour blood from the steel, coppery iron mixing with whatever putrid mixture of cheap alcohol she’d put into her body.

 He started walking briskly back down the street, somehow eager to get back “home” and have a bottle himself. Evan didn’t carry the shit himself, but he’d bought some on a whim after seeing the way his pal Firebrand chugged it. He felt flushed and restless, and half of him _really_ wanted to go back and fuck up somebody else, but he could savor this enough. No need to leave a massive print for himself, if he was going to keep using this vessel.

 Stepping through the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam, a cheap, half-full bottle of cotton-candy vodka, and some clear tequila. Might as well have a little fun with it if he was going to drink in the first place— it was usually more effort than it was worth to get drunk, but three bottles should at least get him somewhere.

 He’d already started sipping at the vodka, the heat of it all starting to affect him. He stripped off his flannel, and kicked off his boots, leaving him in just a wifebeater and one of Evan’s tighter pairs of jeans.

 Soon the bottle of Pinnacle was clattering to the floor as he started working on the Jim Beam, a sloppy grin coming over his face as he thought of that Noah’s affinity for it. One of the things that lasted him into godhood. And maybe these jeans were _too_ tight, he thought as he looked down and— what?

 He was hard, his dick starting to tent the worn denim. That was new. Hell, he got some satisfaction from ganking that bitch, but killing people usually didn’t make him horny. He wasn’t usually _horny_ at all. Above him. But the tipsiness was starting to really hit him about three-quarters into the Beam, and fuck, all he wanted to do was take his cock out of his jeans.

 He fumbled back over to Evan’s bed, his fingers hooking onto the zipper of his jeans and yanking them down. He stared at how his dick was twitching, in slight amusement, before he pulled down his boxers and started stroking. A loud, almost guttural moan fell from his lips as his hand came up and down, his head tipped back, a weird sort of _need_ overcoming him. He thought of the way that girl’s eyes rolled back in her skull as his knife hit her spinal cord, how her blood was so warm and dripping all over, and God his cock fucking ached, his hips bucking up into his own hand with a fervor he hadn’t felt in centuries.

 He jerked faster, aimless thoughts of cutting up tan bodies and lapping at the blood that came filling his mind as his moans grew louder in volume, this sickeningly, selfishly human pleasure the only thing he could focus on as he brought himself closer and closer to sweet release.

 The final image he came up with before it was all over was of weak little Noah’s face painted with blood, his body covered in bruises and his head bowed to HABIT’s mercy, and at that he whined and came, long streaks of white covering his shirt and exposed throat. His breath was coming in shuddering gasps, as he stared into the ceiling and tried to call upon his usual logic, coherency at the very least, finding it to be very difficult.

 He swallowed down the rest of the whisky and started on the tequila greedily, gulping it down as if it were a life force. This was _fun._ He wanted to live inside this feeling of the haze, of wanting something and getting it. Oh, he could get used to the indulgent life.

 He breathed slowly, in and out through his nose as he stared at the surrounding room and smiled, head slumped against the wall. For now, his mind was empty. Unconsciousness would find him.

  



End file.
